


Fake-mate, Soulmate

by whitherwaywill



Series: one chapter wonders [10]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Some Plot, Soul Scars, Soulmate AU, as in, but only a little :), your soulmate has the same scars as you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:01:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25001299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitherwaywill/pseuds/whitherwaywill
Summary: Ginny desperately wants Harry to be her soulmate, and Harry wants to be hers... but the possibility of having a real soulmate somewhere out there is intoxicating.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Pansy Parkinson/Harry Potter
Series: one chapter wonders [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1689838
Comments: 8
Kudos: 76





	Fake-mate, Soulmate

It was a stupid idea.

Harry let Ginny tug him along the hallways until they found a secluded stretch - one that didn't even have any portraits.

A terrible, terrible idea.

Ginny got her wand out.

"Wait," Harry stopped her. "Maybe we shouldn't. I don't like the idea of you hurting yourself, just to see if we're…"

"Soulmates," Ginny finished. "Harry, I want to know, for sure. If I cut myself, and it doesn't show up on your hand…" she took a deep breath. "We already have some scars that aren't the exact same. I need this. I need to know…"

Harry swallowed.

He didn't want her to know.

"Please," Ginny whispered. "For me."

Harry clasped his hands behind his back. "Okay," he said. "Okay."

Ginny aimed her wand at her hand. " _Diffindo."_ A line of red split her skin.

"Show me your palm," she ordered.

Harry revealed his hand to her. On it was the same bloody line as on Ginny's hand.

"I - why is it bleeding?" Forgetting her own hand, Ginny reached out, holding Harry's in both of her own.

"I don't know," Harry said. "Maybe we're… maybe we're a different kind of soulmates?"

Her brow furrowed. "I...I don't know," she hedged.

"Ask Hermione, maybe," Harry suggested. "She would know - or, she could find out…"

"Yes!" The troubled expression on Ginny's face cleared. "You're right. Of course, you're right. I'll go now, okay? You go… you go to the hospital wing. Ask Madame Pomfrey about it."

Ginny dashed out of the hallway without a look back. After making sure she was gone, Harry got his wand out.

" _Episkey,"_ he whispered.

Harry hissed at the sting, but he powered through, healing the line on his palm. It couldn't be more painful than opening it up, wandlessly, had been.

"It takes a very special kind of idiot to pull off what you just did."

He yelped, stumbling as he turned around.

Pansy Parkinson melted out of the wall. She turned her nose up at him in a weak sneer, her hands in her robe pockets.

"What are you -" Harry coughed, running his uninjured hand through his hair. "What are you doing here?"

She shrugged. "Peace and quiet," she said.

"Huh. I thought you were spying on me," Harry snapped. "Keeping tabs, just in case another Dark Lord pops out of the woodwork and wants you to hand me over?"

Pansy flinched. "Do you want me to apologize for that? Because I'm not sorry," she snarled. "And it's a moot point, considering you just turned around and handed yourself over anyway. I don't know why what I said is still such a big deal."

"I -" Harry stopped, scratching the back of his head. She had a point.

She cocked her head to the side, leaning her shoulders back against the wall. "Wow," she marveled. "You're not going to fly off the handle and curse me?"

Harry blinked at her. "Um… no?"

"I guess we all really have grown up," she sighed. "I remember your feud with Draco like it was yesterday. Now you're all buddy-buddy, and I have to deal with his ' _you should just talk to Potter, Pansy, he's nice, he'll forgive you'..."_

Harry sat down next to her, leaving a few feet between them. She slid down the wall, her robes bunching up underneath her.

"Do you want to be forgiven?"

Her shoulders folded inwards, and she hugged herself unconsciously. Harry shoved down the urge to close the distance between them and wrap his own arms around her.

"Not right now, no," she determined. "I want to know why you were faking soul scars."

Harry froze. Panic was ice in his veins.

_How could she know?_

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said flatly.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "They're called soul scars," she said. "Not soul wounds. You shouldn't be bleeding."

Harry winced. His palm was still red and sore, leftover blood encrusted along the line he had opened. "You're right."

A part of him was screaming. _What the hell do you think you're doing, Harry? This is Pansy Parkinson! Do you want the whole school to know you're not actually Ginny's soulmate?_

Another part of him just wanted to talk about it. He couldn't talk to Ron - he was Ginny's brother. Hermione was dating Ron, and desperately wanted things to work out between them. If he told Hermione, it'd be the same as telling Ron.

He hated keeping this secret bottled up inside of him. Even though it should have been obvious by now that they weren't, what with the war and all, Ginny still clung to the belief that they were soulmates.

"Why are you pretending?"

Pansy hadn't moved. She sat there, quietly, waiting for Harry to get his head together. He couldn't wrap his head around it - he had never known Pansy Parkinson to be quiet.

"She wants me to be her soulmate," he said, finally. "She's willing to overlook all the things that don't quite add up - the scars we don't exactly share."

"What do you want?" Pansy asked. "Don't you want to find your own soulmate?"

Harry sighed, throwing his head back against the wall. "I want to be her soulmate."

He did. He really did. Ginny was great. Their relationship was fun, easy, simple - it made sense. He did want to be her soulmate.

Even if the idea of him having another half out there somewhere was intoxicating. Even if he yearned to know who it was - whose paper cuts he bore, who had gotten cursed in the leg, who had had handcuffs rub raw a circle around their wrist...

"Hmm." Pansy shifted into a more comfortable position beside him. "That's stupid. Eventually, she's going to figure it out. It's not something you can fake forever."

"I know," Harry murmured, returning to the conversation. "But it's like…if I'm her soulmate, then I'm a part of a family. For real. Not just their pseudo-son, not just Ron's friend..."

"What a thrilling idea," Pansy mused. "I suppose it has some merit."

"Yeah." Harry stared up at the ceiling. "What about you, Parkinson? Have you got a soulmate?"

"It doesn't matter," Pansy said. "My parents wouldn't let me keep him if they disapproved."

"That's sad."

"It's my life. Don't judge, Potter."

They sat in silence for a few minutes longer, actively not judging each other.

"Well," Pansy sighed. "I should get going. If I'm missing any longer, Daphne might assemble a search party. Or try to, anyway."

Harry nodded, getting to his feet and offering a hand to help Pansy up. She rolled her eyes, but still took it.

"Good luck with your fake-mate," Pansy said, aloof. She was turning up her nose at him again. He snickered.

"Good luck with finding yours, I suppose," he said.

She made a face. "I'd rather help you find yours."

"A Herculean task." Harry dismissed the idea with a wave of his hand, ignoring the twinge of uneasiness that twanged within him at the thought of going back and lying to Ginny, and Hermione too, now.

"Not so much." Pansy's breath caught in her throat. She searched Harry's eyes. "Weasley's an idiot if she thinks she could be your soulmate and not share _all_ your scars."

"What?" Harry gaped at Pansy. One hand went to his forehead, tracing the familiar bumps and ridges of his lightning bolt scar.

"Yeah," Pansy smiled softly, a sweet expression Harry had never seen before. "That's the answer, I guess. Find the girl with a lightning-bolt scar, and you've found your soulmate."

"Wow." Harry deflated, sagging back against the wall. "I never...I didn't think it would be that simple."

Pansy smirked. "Well, you had it all set up, with the Weaslette."

"Don't call her that," Harry snapped. He winced at his tone.

"Old habits," Pansy excused herself. It wasn't exactly an apology, but Harry'd take it anyway.

An idea niggled at the edge of his brain. He stepped forward, closing the distance between them. One hand reached up, cupping her chin, his fingers brushing the ends of her bangs.

"What are you doing," she breathed, tensing.

"Can I?" he whispered.

She licked her lips, and nodded. He pushed her bangs back.

Her forehead was perfectly flawless, no scar in sight.

His heart fell. He took a step back, her bangs feathering back onto her forehead.

"Worth a try, I guess," he said, managing a half-smile. "Only a million more girls left at Hogwarts. See you around, Parkinson."

He turned and began to walk away, back down the hallway towards Gryffindor Tower.

"Wait - fuck. Potter." Pansy stopped him.

He turned, folding his arms. "Yeah?"

She took a deep breath, then pushed up her bangs with one hand. With the other, she pointed her wand at her forehead. " _Finite incantatem."_

A faded lightning bolt materialized on her forehead.


End file.
